


The Fic With Vivisection

by mintpearlvoice



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Body Horror, Cthulhu Mythos, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:05:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintpearlvoice/pseuds/mintpearlvoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charley discovers something about the Doctor. A gift for the Doctor Nyatharlotep coterie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fic With Vivisection

They started by calmly severing one of his smaller sub-limbs. He saw them picking it apart, calmly talking about how it wriggled. With great effort, he closed his mind off to the pain, to the way even the air hurt him when it rasped like air-conditioned sandpaper over that raw, sliced place.  
How long had he been here? Did it matter?   
Would someone tell him what he had done to deserve this?  
He could feel the scalpel scraping along his stomach. The stab itself robbed him of breath. They peeled back the outer layers of skin with agonizing care, then inserted gloved fingers into the open wound and pulled.  
The pain built until it was too much for him, and he let out a roar of grief and madness. It went on for a very, very long time.   
There are things that humans are not equipped to hear.   
**  
In the room, surrounded by twitching scientists, there is a figure strapped to an operating table. It's sort of a... human-shaped octopus creature. Well, sort of. Four main limbs, several extra smaller ones. Four eyes of varying sizes where two should be, an octagonal beak of a mouth. The mouth opens, closes. A few strangled, choked noises issue forth. And then, seemingly with great intent: "Cchh."  
Hesitantly, she moves closer. "Hello? Are you trying to talk to me? Can I help you?"   
"Cchh… charley. Hhelp me, Chharley."  
This, she realizes, is the Doctor. And she should be afraid of him, but she really isn't.   
Even torn open, he is beautiful.   
The tips of his limbs are as translucent as blown glass , and a swirl of color runs through him, like dye dropped into water- deep blue, enchanted-forest green.   
No wonder his human form dresses like a poet. He is a poem, a poem of color and shape.  
"Hang on, I've got you, don't panic." She strokes what she thinks is his head as she undoes the restraints.  
"TARDIS. Where… is she?"  
"Right out in the hallway. I'm taking you to her right now, I promise. Put an arm thing around my shoulder. I'll try to bear as much of your weight as I can."  
Clutching his abdomen with an undamaged pseudopod, the Doctor staggers towards the TARDIS. Charley half-carries him; by the time they're safe inside the familiar blue box, her shirt is soaked with clear, sticky blood.

She gets him into a healing tank in the medbay, pushes the buttons he points to, and waits.  
In times like these, the Doctor remembers that he could, if he wished, destroy this planet. Let it destroy itself. Let it be destroyed.  
But there is always someone, someone kind and clever whose very presence reminds him why this benighted planet is worth saving.   
His companions are not memento mori. They are there to bring out the best in him.  
After a day and a night in pure Gallifreyan ionized swamp water, he's still weak, but a bit better. "Charley, will you help me to the library? I'd like to read." He speaks in the low, musical vibrations of Gallifreyan, letting the TARDIS translate for him. And then, softly, surprised: "You're not afraid of me."  
"Me? Nah. Course not, Doctor. My father once got me a book about sea animals. I spent years wanting a pet octopus." There's a chuckle in her voice and sincerity in her eyes, and the Doctor's eight-sided mouth dilates in a smile.

It's comfortable- freeing, almost- to not have to keep up the shimmer, even better to know that Charley doesn't fear his true form.   
And Charley can almost feel the happiness radiating from her closest friend, as if she's sitting next to a fireplace. Two of the thinnest tentacles curl around her wrist like bracelets; another strokes her hair. She leans against him and sends him kindness.


End file.
